


that flesh can name

by Siria



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Blow Jobs, M/M, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-29
Updated: 2011-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-15 05:28:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siria/pseuds/Siria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Danny squirms, half-gasping, half-laughing, heels digging into the sheets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	that flesh can name

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Cate for the prompt, and Jenn for betaing!

Danny squirms, half-gasping, half-laughing, heels digging into the sheets. "You—did you seriously just stick your _tongue_ into my _belly button_? What, what is that about, oh my god, you freak of nature."

Steve looks up at him briefly, mouth quirked in mischief, before he ducks his head again. He blows a raspberry against Danny's belly, loud and disgusting and ticklish. "Do not," Danny says, breath hiccupping in his throat, "do _not_ , that is like the opposite of hot," but Steve doesn't seem convinced of Danny's sincerity. He licks one long stripe along Danny's hipbone, nips at the thin skin there.

"Are you criticising my technique?" Steve says, sitting back on his heels. "Because if you're criticising my technique, I find that very hurtful." He's trying his best to keep a straight face, but a muscle quivers in his cheek and Danny can tell he's on the verge of laughter.

"Yeah," Danny says, gesturing at him, at the lines and angles of his body; at the swirls of ink on his arms, the hands braced against his thighs, the hard cock resting against his belly, "because you seem so offended here. Truly, Little Steve is looking all disconsolate."

Steve makes one of those hilariously rubber faces. "Did you just give my dick a nickname?”

Danny laces his fingers together behind his head, favours Steve with a sunny smile. "You blow raspberries on me, I give your dick a name. This is what we call reciprocity, my friend."

"Reciprocity," Steve says, slowly, like it’s a word you should be careful with.

"Give and take," Danny elaborates. Arousal and amusement pool low in his gut at the way Steve, all unconscious, has reached out with one hand. He’s stroking Danny’s thigh, rubbing the hair against the grain, working swirls into the tender skin with the pad of his thumb. “Compromise. A mature means of communication.”

“Ohhh,” Steve says, dragging the syllable out as if he’s just had some kind of eureka moment. “ _Reciprocity_. Well, in that case, you can call it whatever you want.”

“Really?” Danny says, because he’s got all sorts of ideas here—all sorts of ideas, what with the evening sun flooding golden through the windows, with half-spoken promises echoing in his head, with Steve’s skin warm against his.

“Absolutely,” Steve says, with the kind of sincerity that always means Danny should be wary. Danny raises his head off the pillow, arches an eyebrow, but Steve continues, “Message received. I blow a raspberry on you, you call me names. And if I blow this…”

He ducks his head, quick enough that Danny barely has time to register the movement before Steve’s taken him into his mouth. In and in, Steve’s mouth hot and wet, and Danny shivers when Steve swallows around him. He’s never grown used to this; doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this, to the way each particular nerve ending of his lights up at being the object of Steve’s focus. Danny reaches down, buries his hands in Steve’s hair, gently scrapes blunt fingernails over Steve’s scalp.

Steve looks at up at that—his eyes are dark, the pupils blown wide, and he holds Danny’s gaze as he slowly, so slowly, licks his way back up Danny’s cock. There’s no way Danny can repress a groan at the sight of that, no way he can stop his hips from jerking upwards, and Steve pulls off for just a moment to grin at him and say, voice already hoarse, “Yeah, like that. C’mon, Danno.”

He goes back down, smooth and easy, his nose pressed against Danny’s belly, and all of a sudden Danny feels like he can’t _breathe_. He touches Steve’s cheek; feels, beneath his palm, the scratch of stubble and the outline of his cock. Steve’s making little noises—barely audible grunts, satisfied little moans—as if he can’t think of anything better than this, and Danny’s skin prickles with heat. The knowledge of how much Steve wants this, wants him, makes Danny’s thighs shake. He’s glad he’s on his back, sheets cool and tangled beneath him, because there’s no way his legs could take his weight right now. He feels lit up, feels like Steve’s taking him apart, bit by bit, and God help him but Danny wants him to.

Steve’s hands move up from Danny’s thighs, curving around Danny’s hips as he tries to tugs Danny closer to his mouth, and that right there is what breaks what’s left of Danny’s self-control. He shifts his hands so that he’s holding Steve’s face steady, so that he’s cradling Steve’s jaw, and then he starts to thrust, fucking Steve’s mouth and loving the way that makes Steve moan. Steve’s lashes are dark against his cheeks, all the fine lines in his face smoothed out from pleasure, and he’s making noises steadily now, vocal in a way he never is with words. He’s saying _yes, yes, yes_ , and when Steve pushes two fingers into Danny’s ass—still wet from earlier—Danny cries out, voice cracking, and comes in Steve’s mouth.

It takes him a long time to come back to himself afterwards. He’s aware of things around him only dimly—of Steve slowly letting his cock out of his mouth as it softens; of sheets being tugged up around their waists and Steve worming his way up so that his head rests on the pillow next to Danny’s. Steve kisses him, mouth bitter with the taste of Danny, lips swollen, and when Danny feels like he can move his limbs again, he wraps one hand around the nape of Steve’s neck and tugs him closer—kisses him until Danny can breathe properly again.

When he opens his eyes, it’s to see Steve smiling at him—an open, uncomplicated smile; the kind of smile Danny’s only seen Steve use when he’s given his heart over completely—and whoops, there goes Danny’s lung function again.

“Hey,” Steve says, “so what kind of name did that get me?”

Danny shakes him gently by the nape, says “ _Steve_ ” and means all the things that even he might never have the words for—and Steve, Steve just beams and kisses him.


End file.
